Fennec

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra grinned and dragged herself closer to Aulfr, ignoring the pain in her chest. She wasn't supposed to be moving, she knew that, but she just had to be close to him. She wanted to be pressed up close to his side, like the night he'd shared his spiced cider with her. The morning after that hadn't been pleasant, but she felt so warm and happy in his arms.

Once she was all curled up and comfortable, she nuzzled her head into his shoulder and sighed slowly, letting all of her muscles loosen. It was easy enough, since the drug was helping to relax her. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair the way she always did when they woke up tangled together, and her palm brushed against the prickly stubble at his jaw. Oh yes! She'd forgotten about that.

She tugged him closer and, without any of her usual hesitation, nipped at a very stubbly part of his jawline. She must have nipped a bit harder than she thought, because immediately a small bruise started forming. She hummed happily, inexplicably pleased that she'd marked him. It meant he was hers, didn't it? "Mine," she said, and nipped again, but softer.

"You're mine, Aulfr. Aren't you? Yes, you are," she answered for him. She ran feather-light fingertips over the little bite-marks on his jaw and kissed those spots. "You touched my face. You like me a lot, you must. And you were worried about me. You don't want me to die."

She was quiet for a long while, thinking whatever her drugged brain was thinking. Then, "I'm never worried when you're hurt or you've gone away. I thought that meant I didn't care, but that was wrong. I care a lot. I just know how strong you are. And even though I shouldn't, I feel proud. I'm proud of you, Aulfr, for wanting to be a better king than your father. For wanting to be a better man. You may not think so, but you're such a good man. Gruff but kind. Honorable. You know when to be hard and when to be soft." She started to drift off, tugged into unconsciousness by the painkiller.

"Maybe that's why I love you so much."

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Everything was dark and hot for awhile, but she knew something was happening. Distantly, she could feel herself being mended, being held. The fire of the poison in her blood faded until the pain was just a dull ache. There were other pains, but she couldn't feel those as much. No, what she could feel the best was a feather-light touch at her lips and then her jaw. It moved all over her face, and she wanted to reach up to hold his hand.

It had to be Aulfr. Who else would touch her so gently? She cursed the poison and whatever the healer had given her, because she could do no more than flutter her eyes in response to him. After awhile, she let herself fall asleep, succumbing to the drugs in her system and the weariness in her bones. She drifted in and out for hours, sometimes able to move a bit and sometimes completely limp. When she finally woke fully, the healer was standing over her.

He continued to check her bandages and stitches without care that she'd woken. She couldn't see Aulfr anywhere, and she felt strangely lonely. She didn't want some stranger touching her unless Aulfr was there. And almost immediately she felt like slapping herself. He was just the healer! Whatever was wrong with her had to be the drugs he was giving her for the pain. She felt sufficiently hazy, so that had to be the reason.

He dosed her again before leaving, and by the time Aulfr made himself known she was grinning and giggling to herself, staring at her hands in extreme fascination. She had such long fingers. She had spider fingers. "My fingers are spiders!" she exclaimed, flapping her slender hands in Aulfr's direction. She couldn't tell what language she was speaking. It sounded like Banta. She made an effort to speak in her own language, and repeated herself. "My fingers are spiders. Do you see them? Creepy crawly things."

She very suddenly wanted to be kissing Aulfr. He looked worried to her, or as worried as the stoic warrior could look. He hadn't shaved, and she wanted to rub her cheek against his stubble. He father used to do that after coming home from campaign. He'd rub his beard all over her face and neck, tickling her until she was laughing hysterically. She wanted to kiss his stubbly cheek and maybe bite it as well. Mm. That sounded very nice.

She started to roll over, but a sharp pain in her chest had her gasping. She fell back onto the blankets and the drug numbed the pain for her, but she looked sad. She held out her 'spiders' and motioned for him to come lay with her. "I'm lonely," she murmured, staring up at him with an open, almost childish expression.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra stood back and watched him walk to the window. He looked lost, and she knew she probably wouldn't be able to pull him out of it. He was best left alone for now. She took a seat where he'd been sitting and set up a small mirror on the table, then cut her own hair. Her plan had been to sheer it as close to her scalp as possible, but she decided as she cut it to leave it chin-length. It made the angles in her face look sharper, fiercer. She looked dangerous instead of young.

After that, the rest of the night was peaceful. And so was the following week, with only one feast to endure and an easy mission from Aulfr. In truth, she was somewhat relieved to be leaving. Things weren't exactly tense, but it could get strangely awkward in quieter moments. Going on a hunt would give her time to clear her head and think about things without his intense presence muddying her thoughts.

But her hunt was not as easy as she'd thought it would be.

It happened the day she returned to the castle. She was in the process of killing her target, a Jarl who had outright protested a policy that Aulfr had suggested, when one of his guards got a knife past her defenses. It was a deep cut on her leg, but it did no serious damage, so she thought nothing of it. She continued to fight, taking down most of the guards in her path. She then killed the Jarl and ran off.

And then she could feel it. A weakness in her legs, a wrongness in her blood. She was too hot, her vision blurring in front of her. She'd been cut by a poisoned knife. She wasn't particularly daunted by the fact, because she knew she could get back to the castle in time. But then there were more guards. And more guards. And so much frenzied fighting that she thought she'd drop dead of the poison before she could be killed by any sword.

Somehow she managed to flee, but not without being beaten to a pulp first. Three cracked ribs, the oozing laceration on her thigh, a nasty bump on her brow and countless bruises and smaller cuts. She didn't know how she did it, but somehow she dragged herself up the side of the castle and fell into Aulfr's room, pale as a ghost and covered in blood and gasping like there was no air in the world. Her head lolled to the side and she saw Aulfr standing near the door. He looked very surprised.

She could only choke out the word, "Poisoned," before slumping to the side, unconscious. She shuddered with little twitches and tics, looking much too small and sickly for someone normally so strong.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra could feel herself frowning, her heart aching a bit at the sorrow in his voice and in his movements. She smoothed her hands over her broad shoulders and, feeling a bit brave, she pressed a kiss to the very top of his head. Then another to his temple, and the final one at the corner of his mouth.

She'd never really desired to meet her birth mother, circumstances being what they were. Her father's wife had been kind and caring, if oblivious to her sons and their nasty habits. She knew the comfort of a mother's kiss, of her warm embrace. She wanted Aulfr to have that. She'd pry the secrets from the Oberjarl's lips. She'd sneak and bribe and coerce people into telling her their rumors. And until then, she could be what he'd never had.

"I can help you move those mountains," she murmured. "You deserve to know your mother, milyy." She paused on that, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment. That might have been the first time she'd even called someone 'darling,' and of course she'd used it on Aulfr and in her own language. She felt foolish, but plowed on ahead before he could respond.

"If there's anything you need me to do to help with your finding her, you need only ask. Or command, since all you do is boss me around anyways," she said, mostly playful. She kept the fingers of one hand buried in his hair while she pressed another kiss to his temple. She liked how it felt to do that. She was calming him. It was because of what she was doing that he was relaxed, that he was happy. She felt like she was glowing, shining brighter than the sun just because of what she could do for him.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra hummed quietly for awhile, content to trim his hair without conversation. She felt some sort of pride as he relaxed further and further. He melted like a candle, something she never thought could be done. She brushed some hair from his shoulders, surprised by how loose the muscles felt there. He really was content to sit here and let her do what she wanted.

It continued this way for a time, her humming and snipping and thinking deeper about Aulfr. Where was his mother? Had she ever been around to do these things for him? It seemed to her that the only times he relaxed and felt more comfortable with her were when she was caring for him. He had the same response as most men did to her appearance and any playful advances she made, but they didn't seem to attract him as much as the softer, sweeter side of her did. Maybe he craved it in the absence of affection from his mother.

She smiled and, feeling bold but hesitant, snipped the last bit of hair and stepped closer. She let his head lean back against her stomach as she shook out the remaining hairs, then just ran her fingers through it. "Aulfr, I was wondering something," she murmured, keeping her voice quiet and honey-sweet. "I've never seen your mother around, and I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries by asking. But where is she? Do you know?"

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra had already jumped away, embarrassed to be seen so close to Aulfr like that. Aulfr seemed concerned about it as well. She cleared her throat and brushed hair hair from her eyes. She wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind. She also wanted to kiss him again. And again. It was somewhat disconcerting how she could go from fearing advances from any man to wanting to kiss one all day. It was something she'd been starved for. So rarely did she touch anyone kindly, she realized. And so rarely did anyone touch her. Not unless she was fighting or being healed.

She moved around Aulfr as she contemplated all of this, and set the breakfast tray on the table. She took a seat in her sewing chair and snatched up her mug of coffee first. She drowned it in cream and sugar as she always did, until it hardly tasted like coffee at all. Then she settled in to eat, staring at Aulfr unabashedly throughout the meal. She was trying to figure out exactly why she felt the way she did about him.

Was it his looks? It couldn't just be that, though he was quite... pretty. For a man. His hair was brown and wavy and soft like rabbit fur. His eyes were dark and usually void of emotion, but she loved the way they lit up when they sparred, and the confusion in them each morning when he woke up wrapped around her. His lips... They were surprisingly soft for such a hard man. And warm. And not something she would linger on, not at all. He had nice hands. Long-fingered, strong, callused. She wanted to hold his hand for awhile. Maybe she'd try that later.

Soon, their meal was over and she was fetching a pair of scissors from her satchel. She found she was sort of excited to trim his hair for him. She wasn't always keen on acting like a woman, but some hidden maternal instinct in her wanted to care for him, to keep him safe and help him succeed. He needed a woman's touch, she believed. And trimming his hair was a wonderful place to start.

She had him sit in the wooden chair at the desk next to the wardrobe. "I won't cut much. Just enough that it won't always be in your face," she assured him. Then she began snipping, combing through his hair with gentle fingers. She was fighting the urge to hum, but she felt so light, so bubbly. She gave in and started humming a quiet Noxan lullaby that, as a storyteller, she liked to sing in taverns at the end of the night. It was a very old song, something she didn't remember learning, since it was about wandering the earth and learning about fantastic creatures. Most Noxan songs in recent memory were about war.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra, as usual, had the urge to push him away when he kissed her. His weight on her and the look on his face made her think of that morning the week prior. Having him kiss her in his bed felt almost wrong. But her own body betrayed her, her fingers burrowing deeper in his hair. Just feeling the soft strands fall forward to brush her face was enough to lessen her unease.

It was over quickly. Or it felt quick. She didn't know how long kissing was supposed to last. She was still sort of dazed as Aulfr climbed out of bed to perform his morning warm-up. She sighed and closed her eyes, tempted to burrow beneath the blankets and sleep for the rest of the day. No feasts and no missions, so there was hardly anything to do. But she did have to cut her hair, and she was hoping Aulfr would let her trim his.

So she dragged herself from bed and padded to the door to call for breakfast- along with some coffee. She loved the bitter, energy-rich drink and was often in a foul mood if she didn't get some in the morning. Even better, it wasn't all that hard to come by. Banti sold ships full of the beans at low costs, so she had as much coffee as she wanted. Especially here in the castle.

While she waited for breakfast, she joined Aulfr in his daily warm-up. She'd watched him do it several times, so she mimicked some of his movements and threw in a few of her own. She didn't speak. She felt peaceful, at ease with the man beside her. She listened to their combined movements and their breathing, and enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun streaming in to caress her face.

Once they finished, she took his hand before he could move away and turned toward him. It was terribly stupid of her to keep touching him and acting sweet on him like this, but she was stuck here for at least a year. Even if he was just using her for politics, he was reciprocating her actions and he was doing it in a way that felt safe to her. She'd keep on with it until he asked her to stop.

She reached up and grabbed his collar to pull him closer to her. She was still on her tiptoes when she kissed him, her fingers burrowed in his hair once more to keep him there. She lightly scratched her nails over his scalp, kissing him longer than he'd kissed her. She was getting better at it. After a few long moments, she pulled away just enough to speak. "It's going to be a lazy day," she murmured against his lips. "We could both use a trim. Would you let me?" she asked, brushing his hair from his eyes.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

The rest of the night passed, mostly uneventful. They sparred, had a proper dinner, and went to bed. Something drove her to lay a bit closer to him instead of futilely perching herself at the very edge as she did each night. He'd proven himself to be honorable and they'd just end up clinging to each other anyways. She knew it would keep happening unless they slept in separate beds, which didn't look to be a possibility.

She was proven right the next morning when she woke to find Aulfr cuddling her like a child's stuffed toy. She was almost that small compared to him, something she only just then realized she sort of liked. Not that she was short and slender, but that he was tall and broad, like a big tree. It made for a fun contrast when they sparred. And if she were ever honest with herself, she might have admitted that she liked that he was so big and strong, because she wanted someone to be strong for her sometimes.

But of course, that was absurd. She didn't need another person's strength. She was plenty strong.

Still, it seemed she was stuck being snuggled to death until Aulfr woke up, so she settled in and brought a hand up, running very gentle fingers through his too-soft hair. She leaned her cheek on top of his head, which was a warm and heavy weight just above her heart. It was sort of unsettling to have his face so close to her breasts, but it was comforting at the same time. She wondered if his dreams were moving to the beat of her heart, a peaceful and steady rhythm.

A lock of her wild black hair slipped into her vision and she blew it out of her face. It came to settle on her shoulder... and then past it. Oh Saints. Had her hair really gotten that long? It was a beast to tame each morning, and normally she would sheer it close to her head, but still long enough to be feminine. Now it fell past the tops of her shoulders, longer than she'd let it grow in years. She'd been sailing with pirates last time it was so long.

She glanced at her fingers, still buried in Aulfr's hair, and smiled. She hardly even gave thought to what she was doing as she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing the hair from his sleeping face. "I'll need to coerce you into letting me cut your hair," she murmured softly to herself, her voice barely a whisper.

Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

Aleksandra smiled and reached up, tracing the shape of the odd, snake-like blade. She was glad to have this distraction from the kiss, even though she could still feel the tension hovering between them. "I'm asking because I want it," she dared to say. "I'm not very skilled at swordplay, not unless I have a khopesh in my hands. It requires more finesse than a normal sword, and much more style. This one is beautiful, a masterpiece. Almost better than your own sword. The steel isn't of the same quality, but it's tough." Feeling bold, she took the sword from him, ignoring the warmth of his hand as she did.

She took a few steps away and played with the sword for a few moments, getting used to the way it way balanced and the way it had to be held. Then she fell into a crouch, her eyes closed and the khopesh drawn back behind her. She began fighting imaginary enemies, swinging and twisting the sword with all the grace and precision of a striking snake. Oh, how she wished she had a long dagger in her other hand. The combination was nearly unstoppable. Draw this enemy close with the curve of the sword, plunge the dagger into his throat and swing away to cut around the knee of another. What a lovely, powerful dance it was.

She realized she'd been more waltzing than fighting, and that there was no grin on her face but a peaceful smile. She faltered to a stop, her eyes flying open. She was embarrassed by how she'd let herself go like that, and turned to look at Aulfr. "I'd like to have this sword. Unless you'd rather I teach you how to use it. But you'd need to put a lot of effort into it. The khopesh is a difficult weapon to use, not for simple stabbing and cutting like normal swords, and you'd need to learn how to move faster and tighter than you do now."

Hot wolf man.

Mal had fallen asleep almost immediately after he'd laid down, and had slept like the dead the whole night. He'd woken about an hour after dawn and grabbed breakfast, but he'd fallen asleep again after that. A good run always wore him out completely. He was completely wrapped up in his sheets from the waist down, one arm tossed over his head, and the other shoved up the shirt he'd pulled on as if he'd been trying to itch himself. His shirt was pushed almost all the way up, baring his lean-muscled chest and stomach, along with a detailed tattoo of a compass just above his left hip. His hair was an absolute mess, wild and wavy on one half of his head and pressed flat on the other half. He was pouting in his sleep, like a little boy who'd just been scolded by his mother. Young and serious.

(Ugh, that's kind of terrible. Sorry. Didn't know what else to do.)